Illusions Illuminate
Intangible illusions illuminate
through streams of
irrefutable dreams.
A hypnotist of phrases,
a hypnotist of the mind,
He plays doctor beautifully
blind.
Dreamy, doubtful, distanced
does the doctor. Wise yet worried,
I wonder what makes him
cry?
Surely not the sounds of the
whirling wind whistling by?
But the other day,
out in the leaves,
a cool soft breeze
passed,
and I saw him weeping
at last!
It is not the pain;
nor is it the personal.
I just want to be certain he
feels:
I will be satisfied when
I see a tear;
if only I could collect it:
to remind me of
miracles.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
